Chapter 25 The Warlord #2
Tossing the glass between my palms, I strode to the hidden bookshelf in my study.
I depressed a book, a small Mage Orb suddenly appearing from the depths of a fake shelf.
I quickly touched it, and the bookshelf opened with a pop.
Sliding the faux shelf to the side, I revealed my most important possession—the Book of Memories and Futures that I stole from the Last Matriarch.
The need for it, the desperate desire to secure both mine and Elyria’s future compelled me to accept advice and commit acts that were less than savory.
But they had to be done.
Otherwise, we’d be under the heel of the gods for the rest of eternity.
I set the empty tumbler down gently on one of the shelves of the faux bookshelf before carefully pulling the Book of Memories and Futures from its stand and leafing through the pages.
Just as the first time I held it, nothing appeared. No words. No runes. No prophecies.
Nothing.
I sighed before placing it back on its shelf. I was no closer to obtaining the information I needed than I was sixteen years ago. But the goal remained the same.
Protect Elyria by any means necessary—including the death of the gods.
Even when it meant my own demise.
I sighed before resealing the bookshelf and running a hand over my face. I was out of answers and running out of time.
A visit to Jarius was in order.
“The General remains unBonded?” Jarius rasped softly as he swilled the water in his glass, his eyes unfocused and unseeing.
“Yes,” I grumbled, already annoyed with this strain of conversation. I’d received enough condescension from Kaos about this exact topic and had little use for it from a Keeper living in captivity.
“And the girl hasn’t discovered anything of use?”
“No.”
Jarius sighed before his hand ceased its movement.
“Tell me of Elyria,” the old man demanded.
“The Crystal Mines are destroyed.” I winced with that admission.
Jarius had not seen that in any of his visions, the Last Keeper’s rebels somehow moving without either of our knowledge.
The loss of the mines debilitated Elyria both economically and militarily, and recovery would be difficult.
I’d sent a small retinue of Mages from the Academy to recover whatever, and whoever, remained, but the mine shaft was so well collapsed that there was little hope of any rescue of note.
The crystals they returned with were barely enough to support the few Mages we had in the Academy who were unBonded.
It was a clusterfuck.
Jarius grunted in response.
“The Borderlands are in turmoil after the fall of Isrun. Hestin and Lishahl are holding onto our alliance by a thread—I’ve not heard from Lord d’Leocopus in weeks.
I’ve long suspected that various territories in the Northern Alliance are no longer loyal.
Hestin’s harboring of rebels was unseen yet not unpredicted.
” I scratched the stubble on my jaw in thought.
“The south is even quieter than usual. My intelligence networks seem to think that there are two rebel forces now; one in the north somewhere and another in the south.”
“A war on both sides,” Jarius said.
I nodded my head once.
“It appears it’s devolving that way, yes,” I admitted. The weight on my chest pressed harder.
“And your wife?”
I hummed quietly. “I tasted her blood in an effort to see if our hypothesis was correct”—I drummed my fingers absently on the table—“but there was nothing in her blood. No truths, no lies, no memories. It was oddly devoid of everything.”
We were silent for a moment, both of us lost in thought.
“I don’t envy your position, Truthsayer,” Jarius said wryly.
I hummed noncommittally.
“I’m running out of time, Jarius. With more questions than answers at this point.”
Jarius tapped his fingers against the table in a steady beat as he sucked his teeth, mulling over my words.
“At best guess you have six months, probably less, before Kaos and Solace are at your doorstep. My advice, Truthsayer? Shore up your defenses. Prepare the city for war. Gather as many into your army as you can. It’s been made abundantly clear that Solace will be moving against the Borderlands soon, if she hasn’t already.
Use that chaos to harbor refugees, but insist they join your Academy in order to receive food and lodging.
Bond as many of them as you can. It’s the only way I can see even a glimmer of hope for Elyria. ”
I pushed the heels of my palms into my eyes, rubbing hard at the ache in them.
Jarius admitted months ago—at the death of the Last Matriarch—that Solace’s visions were tainted with her own desires, which rendered the visions impure.
Jarius was gifted a true, undiluted vision from Fate upon the Matriarch’s death—much of what he’d seen was contrary to the visions he’d been fed for years, and it sent us scrambling trying to plug holes in our plots that were suddenly revealed.
He’d apologized for his inadvertent misdirection, but apologies didn’t resolve the issues I now faced.
Jarius’ voice interrupted my musings for a final time. “And, above all else, Alois, you must determine if your wife really is who, and what, you think.”